


The First Year

by Zivitz



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, Parenthood, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22665928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivitz/pseuds/Zivitz
Summary: Donna and Harvey navigate the first year of parenthood.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	The First Year

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to everyone who held my hand and encouraged me and cheered me on. Special thanks to Victoria and Anna who looked it over and assured me I wasn't crazy for posting. Love you.

i

There’s a small shift in the bed next to her and she moans. God, she’s tired. Bone-weary wasn’t really something she truly understood until now. Another shift, and she opens one eye. A little fist waves jerkily in the air, and she smiles. “Hey, baby.” She turns to her side, stroking wispy hair with two fingers. “Did you have a good sleep?” The baby turns toward the sound of her voice, kicking both legs. “I’ll take that as a yes. How did you get in here, anyway?”

“Sorry, that’s my fault. I didn’t think she’d wake you.”

“This is me we’re talking about, remember? And please tell me that’s actual coffee.”

“Sorry, Mama, still decaf for you. Last thing we need is a wired newborn.”

“Ugh, spoil sport.”

ii

Mike stood over the bassinet. “So, you made one of these, huh?”

“Don’t act so shocked.”

“I mean, I knew theoretically you _could_ , I just didn’t think-“

Harvey hoisted his godson higher on his hip. “Daddy’s being a jackass, isn’t he?”

“Hey, watch the language.”

“Please, he’s going to learn worse.”

“Only if I keep letting him around you.”

“You’re so naïve.”

“And you’re a father.”

Harvey grinned. “Yeah, I am.”

iii

He woke up as he hit the floor. “Ugh, what?’ Bleary eyed and still half asleep he looked over the top of the bed to see Donna’s arm stretched out over his side of the bed. “What was that for?”

He registered the crying about the same time as his brain deciphered the random noises she slurred into her pillow as ‘your turn’.

iv

He lay slouched on the couch, infant on his chest. Harvey Specter, father. He almost laughed, but he’d finally gotten her to sleep and wasn’t about to jinx it. He hadn’t exactly been avoiding commitment his whole life- he was loyal to a fault and that is in itself a commitment- but romantic attachments were definitely not his forte and there’s no way he’d bring a child into a one-night-stand. Children had never been on his radar. Too messy, too many chances to fuck them up, too much that can go wrong with innocent lives in the balance. He knew that first hand, and it had scarred him.

But now… He gently placed a hand on his daughter’s back, feeling her sweet weight on him and the utter trust that lived there. The rise and fall of her back accompanying a slight snore caused by a stuffy nose, left over from her first cold. He never thought his life would be full of firsts again. The baby coughed, waking slightly to rub her face across his shirt, leaving a snail trail of snot behind before snuggling in and sighing what was surely the most adorable sigh in the world. He never thought he’d find anything so endearing, but it turns out it’s different when they’re yours.

v

The screaming was getting to him. It’d been hours, probably, hopefully had been hours or else he’d have to re-evaluate his own ideals about strength. He had successfully handled just about everything life had handled at him so far and not broken, but listening to her howling without reprieve was definitely going to do it.

“Donna, please.”

“No, Harvey, absolutely not.” 

“That other stuff isn’t working, she just screamed louder.”

“I don’t care.”

“She didn’t like the frozen peas, or the washcloth, or the pacifier. She threw up when we tried the gel. C’mon, I know how you feel but seriously. Last resort. My mom swore by it.”

“You’re not putting scotch on my daughter’s gums, and that’s final.”

vi

“Jesus Christ. DONNA!”

“What?”

“I need backup!”

She rushed into the room with her heart racing, half-expecting the worst from the tone of Harvey’s voice and stopped dead.

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“I’m guessing someone got bored.”

Their daughter grinned at them over the rail of her crib as she danced from one very brown foot to the other, legs- and hands, arms, crib, bedding, and part of the wall besides- artfully decorated with the contents of the diaper discarded at one end of the crib. “AdadadaDAda-DAH!” she exclaimed, reaching for Harvey.

“Donna…” 

“I know. I’ll run the bath, you get the wipes.”

vii

“Why did we think this was a good idea, again?”

“Because it’s an enriching experience.”

“It’s enriching my hatred of sand.”

“Harvey.”

Donna put a hand out to intercept the sand-filled fist making its way to the baby’s mouth. She was ten months old and according to the books on their nightstand well into the sensorimotor stage of development. Which, as far as she could tell, just meant that everything went straight into her mouth. 

A trip to the beach had seemed like such a good idea at the time; the weather was warm but not too hot, it was out of season so the beach wouldn’t be too crowded, and it was within a few hours’ drive so they could get there during nap time. The visions of happy family time in the surf, however, were quickly replaced with sand. Everywhere. 

“Come see Mama, let’s go for a walk.” She rose, hefting the baby with her and turned to Harvey, “You going to be okay holding the fort for a bit?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I think I can manage to keep a couple of toys and a cooler from escaping.”  
She bounced the baby on her hip. “Daddy’s grumpy,” she whispered. “Must be the sand in his shorts.”

“I heard that.”

viii

“...it looks like your room has been lived in by-“ Donna honked like a goose, and her daughter started laughing. 

“Hmm. Maybe…” She barked like a dog. 

“No!” It was one of her few words and a fast favourite. 

“No? Huh, I really thought… Maybe it’s-“ and meowed like a cat.

“No!” she cried, her little belly shaking as she laughed.

“Oh, I’ve got it!” Donna moo’d like a cow and the toddler’s whole body shook with silent laughter until her colour turned and Donna started getting concerned.

Then she snorted on the inhale, and laughed harder.

Harvey poked his head in from the living room, where he’d been listening in on story time. “Did she just…?”

And then she did it again. Harvey grinned. “She did _not_ get that from me.”

ix

“Mama! Mamamamamamama-”

It was something she sometimes thought she’d never get tired of hearing. Her baby finally had a name for her, and it was sweet and loving and heartbreaking by turns. 

But at four am, it was annoying. She entered the nursery without turning on the light. “Hi, baby,” she cooed. “How come we’re awake?” She smelled and felt the answer as soon as she lifted her daughter out of the crib. 

“Ugh, that’s a smelly one. How come you never do this when it’s Daddy’s turn?”

She babbled earnestly as Donna popped the snaps on her sleeper, eager to tell Mama all the things that happened while she was sleeping. She heard a few words as she tried to breathe through her mouth; Mama, Dada, dog, no, and some sounds that mimicked words without being words. The little baby they’d brought home was getting so big, figuratively and literally. Her world was expanding exponentially and the snaps on her 12 month sleepers were starting to bulge. The thought of moving up to 18 month clothing made Donna’s eyes start to tear up. A whole year and no time at all. Soon she’d be off to school, and then dating, and college, and-

She laughed as she picked up her daughter, who laughed with her. “Mama’s being silly.” 

The baby patted her cheeks appreciatively and nodded. 

Donna sat in the rocker and snugged her still-baby up close to her, noting the eyes starting to lower as she rocked. She closed her own after a few minutes, and rocked them both to sleep.

x

Donna sighed as she flopped into bed next to her husband. “That was a good party.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. Harvey was eyeing his phone over the reading glasses he’d begrudgingly agreed to. 

She turned on her side to face him. “I’m really glad Marcus was able to come.”

“Yeah.”

“And those penquins from Madagascar.”

“Uh-huh.”

She sighed and plucked the phone from his grasp, putting it on her nightstand.

“Hey, I was reading that!”

“Yes, and I was trying to talk to you.”

“The party, I heard that.”

“And absolutely nothing that came after.” She looked at him pointedly.

He sighed and rolled himself toward her, propping his head on one hand. “Okay, I’m listening. What’s up.”

“We made it a whole year, Harvey. Did you ever think when we brought her home we’d be able to do this? I was terrified.”

He huffed a laugh. “Me, too. Now she’s walking around making demands.”

“Sounds familiar.”

Harvey shrugged. “She comes by it honestly.” He leaned over to kiss her, sweet and just this side of chaste. “Now what did you really want to talk about, because I know it wasn’t the party.”

She shrugged. “I was just-“

“Is this about the pregnancy test you think you’ve got hidden behind the toilet paper?”

Donna’s jaw dropped. “How do you know about that?”

“Please, it’s like you _wanted_ me to find it.”

“Well-“

“Are you sure?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No, that’s why I got the test.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re being very calm about this.”

Now it was Harvey’s turn to shrug. “These things happen.”

Donna sat up. “’These things **happen** ’? Who _are_ you and what have you done with-“ The rest of her words were muffled as he pulled her down for a searing kiss.

“Harvey,” she panted, when he finally released her. 

“It’s okay, Donna. If it’s a thing, it’s okay.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re us. We made a beautiful baby who’s walking and talking and will fight tooth and nail for what she really wants. And if we made another one they’ll be just as amazing because they’re ours.”

She nestled against him, head on his shoulder and fingers lazily drawing nothing on his chest. “And what if it’s negative?”

“What if it is?”

“Then I think,” she said, placing a kiss to his neck, “that we make beautiful babies, Mr. Specter.”


End file.
